Meat
by PhoenixJustice
Summary: Batman/Joker, set post The Killing Joke, sequel to Apparel. Joker had reached out his hand to him, showing Bruce that things were not completely lost. And that… even if no one else could forgive him it, Bruce would always take that hand.


Meat

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Batman is owned by DC. I only own this.

Warning: Rated M for language, graphic sexual content, etc.

Pairing: Batman/Joker.

Setting: Post-_The Killing Joke_, spoilers for the comics, including _Death in the Family_.

Summary: Joker had reached out his hand to him, showing Bruce that things were not completely lost. And that… even if no one else could forgive him it, Bruce would always take that hand.

Part two of _That one joke...you remember the one, _sequel to _Apparel._

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"Wait."

It's the first word that the Joker has spoken in minutes. They had lapsed into a silence not long after Bruce had pulled away from Arkham, after that breakthrough moment between them. When Bruce could no longer resist what had been there since a Red Hooded man had fallen into a vat of acid and had _chosen _to become chaos to Bruce's order. That's what all of this had been, hadn't it, up to this point? Choice? Or was it fate? Did Bruce even believe in the concept of fate anymore? When his parents had been taken away from him?

He turns to look at Joker, whose surprisingly solemn demeanor gives Bruce pause. Was he regretting this? Was this too much too soon? For Bruce..._inevitability_ was the word that came to his mind now. The thing that Joker had tried to tell him, for all of this time, that Bruce had fought tooth and nail against until the point came that he couldn't fight anymore, that he could only look at Joker and know that _this is it, isn't it? This is everything. _

"Sorry. Sorry, I'm not…" Joker laughs softly, though his eyes are still serious, the look on his face breaking Bruce's heart. "I'm sorry. I've only… I've wondered a long time about all of this...about _you."_

"Well hopefully it lives up to your grand expectations." He tries to joke. And what a world where _Joker _would have the solemn moment and it would be _Bruce _trying to break it with humor.

Joker is quiet for another moment, before his lips curve into a smile. Once, that smile would have made Bruce instantly tense, trying to figure out what plan Joker was trying to scheme, failing to realize (Bruce was the master of self-denial, after all) that this kind of smile would be the closest thing to _innocence _that The Joker would ever get to.

It said: _I'm happy to see you. I want to see more of you. You make my world brighter, don't you know that, Bats? How much I love you? _(All of these things Joker _himself _had said to Bruce time after time after _time.)_

"Well…" Joker says, his smile turning sharper, more heated and instantly it catches Bruce's breath. He runs a hand over some of the interior. "If it's anything like the _experience _here in the Batmobile recently, well, I'm sure that it will _also _be my favorite place."

Bruce can feel his face heat and he looks away, ignoring Joker's laughter, taking the car out of park and driving into the entrance that led into the Batcave. This time, however, the silence just makes Joker giddy it seems and he laughs all the harder as it goes on.

"Oh come now, Bats." Joker purrs (and _god,_ that tone was so unfair right now. Despite the fighting they had done tonight-and then the sex after it, he can still find himself growing hard at Joker's voice. And Joker had to know it too; he read Bruce better than anyone ever could.) "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it too; I have the evidence of that deep in my-"

"That's enough." Bruce says, though without any heat to his tone.

Joker giggles. "You're so _prudish _sometimes, sweets. It's cute."

"I don't _do _cute."

"You do _me _and who is cuter in Gotham, let me ask you? Harvey? Pssh. Nygma? He wishes. Or-"

"And I'm not a prude. I mean…" He lowers his tone, down into that deeper, grittier tone he would often employ as Batman, which instantly catches Joker's attention. "I fucked you in my car, didn't I?"

Joker cackles.

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The cave was Bruce's inner sanctum, one of the few things that gave him a real sense of..._being_ in. He and Joker had been at odds for so many years that the thought of allowing him access to something so important would have been a thought he would never have allowed himself. Because the cave was like the..._heart _of Batman, of _him, _Bruce, and he couldn't let himself, his heart, be accessed. By anyone. And especially not by the man who could potentially ruin it more than anyone else ever could.

But that was _before. _Before a final desperate plea, that they could meet each other halfway, could trust that neither would be without the other, in the ways that truly mattered, fell on ears that were not _deaf_ to the pleas. Because it took time-and pain-but finally Joker, tentatively, so tentatively, took a step forward and trusted that Bruce would light his way across.

The batmobile comes to a stop and a quick look to Joker has Bruce stopping from leaving the vehicle immediately.

"If it's too much," Bruce says quietly. "I can blindfold you and take you out of here."

"Kinky." Joker says, though with little energy behind his words. He looked both too shell shocked and full of some other emotion that Bruce couldn't define.

"Joker."

Joker finally looks over at him, with wide eyes. Bruce's eyes soften and he leans forward, cupping the man's face in his hands.

"It's alright." He tells him in a low tone, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin trying to soothe him. "Take as much time as you need."

"Where's this patience coming from, Bats?" Joker hiccups out a laugh. "Whenever we fight you get so _angry."_

"That's because you're usually doing something awful. Or deliberately trying to get under my skin." Bruce murmurs. "You've always been good at that."

"_Definitely_ helping me feel better, Brucey." Joker says wryly.

Bruce smiles a bit, the newness of Joker still calling him by his given name still a pleasant feeling. "I know."

And Joker _did_ look much less wound up than he had been, more like his usual level of energy (which admittedly was still often quite high, though this situation was certainly different.)

Joker lets out a breath and before Bruce can react properly, has the door open and is out of the Batmobile in an instant. Bruce is out quickly in return and makes his way over to The Joker's side, who has already taken to leaving the platform, his head turning everywhere as he looks at the many things that took up residence in the cave; the giant penny, a large dinosaur, a set of specialty umbrellas that had once been Cobblepot's, and of course…

"You kept it." Joker's voice is quiet, very quiet.

If there had been any doubt left to Bruce about Joker's origins, those simple soft words would have washed that away. But Bruce had long ago thought of this. Despite the bad parts of it, what it would do to the man that had been before Joker became fully _Joker,_ it was still...special.

He comes to stand next Joker, feeling the tremble of the clown's body so close to his.

"Of course I did." Bruce says, just as quiet.

"You're sentimental." Joker says, only half accusingly.

"We both are." Bruce says. "It's part of what makes it so rough for both of us, doesn't it?"

Joker lets out a choked sound and turns away from the stand that held the Red Hood. Bruce grabs his hand, squeezing it.

"As much as I'd like to play host down here," Bruce says, in a lighter tone than he felt. "I do believe I promised you some steak."

After a moment Joker squeezes his hand in return. He turns to Bruce and Bruce is kind enough to ignore the sheen of tears in his eyes, instead looking at the smile blooming on his mouth that only seems partially forced.

"I thought you'd _never_ offer. _Dancing _tires a girl out, after all."

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The manor is mostly dark and very quiet, what some might call eerie, but what Bruce could only call _comfort, _of _home. _The manor comforted him in a way few things truly could. He watches Joker's eyes-after they had made their way up the numerous steps in the cave leading to the secret door to the manor-and looks as Joker takes in everything.

Once...once Bruce would have been angry at the presence of the other man here (_sacred ground,_ might have crossed his mind back then), but it would have been mostly a front. Anger was Bruce's shield from many slights; something which he had had to learn over the years to temper. Anger could be a useful tool but _rage_ could be blinding, fatal. And he would have used that anger as _righteousness _and surely a great battle would have ensued.

Only, a day like that had never happened. And knowing what he did now, that Joker had known his identity behind the mask seemingly all along, it made sense why Joker had never come to the manor before now: he was scared it would end their 'game'. The sense of balance had always been so very precarious between the both of them, even if neither had never outright acknowledged that.

Instead now… now he had taken off the cowl and the rest, Joker's eyes on him all the while, putting on 'regular' attire, unable to stop from feeling the way he does when Joker's eyes look at him with just as much pleasure as he had when Bruce had the cowl and cape on.

Alfred is not anywhere in sight. Given the hour it would be fair to assume he would be asleep, but although he kept much better sleeping hours than Bruce did, given Bruce's...occupation, finding him up at odd hours wasn't wholly unusual and Bruce cannot help but feel a measure of relief that he wasn't awake. He had made his choice, but that didn't mean he was envying the inevitable conversation that would take place, from Alfred, from Dick… well he wasn't even sure Dick would want to talk to him, much less _Barbara. _

After everything, after what happened to _Jason… _he was very certain none of them would understand, much less accept.

He gets to watch the odd, but surprisingly pleasing sight of Joker perching himself on one of the kitchen stools, leaning on his elbows on the kitchen island, watching Bruce intently. He can feel his eyes all but burn a hole in him as he retrieves the leftover food, moving to heat it up. It's quiet, but not awkwardly so. And yet, the quiet still makes him nearly pause in his work, feeling the thrum of what could only be _anticipation _run through his body and wonder how much of the same that Joker was feeling.

He thinks for a moment about what to add, but no words come to his lips. After the food is heated, he turns back to Joker and pauses, food in hand, at the intense look that Joker is fixing him with and doubts that the man had looked at anything _but _Bruce the entire time. He sets the food down, holding back a swallow, looking at Joker. Joker pulls one of the plates to himself without looking away from Bruce and manages a surprisingly nice knife cut to the steak (though he perhaps shouldn't be so surprised, given Joker's propensity with knives.)

With that, he starts to cut into his own food, taking a seat across from Joker, but pauses in mid cutting when Joker moans all but _obscenely_, making him whip his head up to look at him.

"Oh, Bats," Joker breathes. "I gotta get the recipe. I'm not one to live lavishly, but who doesn't _love_ a good piece of meat in their mouth?"

He flutters his eyes at Bruce and Bruce's stomach jerks in response and he can feel himself grow hard. Despite the aches and pains from the nights work before even coming _across _Joker, despite the aches and pains _from _their fighting, despite how voraciously they had been wrapped up in each other, (_with Bruce inside of him) _he still finds himself wanting. _Longing._

"Mmm. Maybe we can blend a bit for the boy. Wonder how steak through a straw tastes like?" Joker asks, idly, twirling his steak knife around.

Bruce's stomach lurches and suddenly his appetite wanes. He pushes his food away from himself.

"Don't." He finds himself saying, as if from a great distance.

Joker pauses in his twirling and looks at Bruce, surprised.

"Hmm?"

"I said don't." Bruce repeats. "Don't talk about him."

Joker puts the knife down, eyes turning serious. They stare at each other for a long moment and it's Bruce to break eye contact first.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Joker says softly.

"I...don't want you to say anything." Bruce says, stiffly. "You wouldn't mean it anyway."

It's quiet for a long time, with not even the sounds of the cutlery against the plates and the food.

"I didn't want to." Joker says eventually. "I didn't-"

"Stop."

"I didn't _want _to." Joker says, his voice rising.

"Stop talking." Bruce says.

"I _didn't-"_

"_I said that's enough!" _Bruce bellows, standing up, the stool nearly tumbling down from the force of it.

Joker doesn't stand, nor does he look angry. Instead he looks...if not sad, then on the side nearest to it. _Weary _is what he looks like. Weary. The same weariness that had taken him suddenly near the end of their time at the funfair a year ago. The kind of weariness that was a soul kind of weariness, not a physical one.

"I didn't want to." Joker repeats, quiet compared to Bruce's outburst now. "There's...a lot I don't regret, Bruce. You know that. You know _me_. But that, even that… I'll admit that I didn't want to."

Bruce sits back down, weary himself now. "You couldn't stop yourself."

"No."

"You wanted to stop yourself." Not a question.

"That time? Yes. Other times… You know me." Joker repeats. "Other times I don't want to, to stop. Sometimes it's _fun_. But I didn't want to do it then."

Quiet again. Then as if in silent agreement, both start to eat again, though Bruce does not do so with the relish he had minutes ago.

"I could try and get the recipe from Alfred," Bruce finally says. "But I wouldn't hold my breath over getting it."

"Ah of course!" Joker says, voice bright, though his eyes are still as surprisingly solemn as they had been. He takes another bite, smacking his lips loudly. "I'm sure he wouldn't like me having something like that. Though if he knew what I had gotten from you _earlier-"_

"Shut up." Bruce mutters. Joker laughs.

They, neither of them, could change certain circumstances that had happened in their lives. The loss of Bruce's parents, his mission to change Gotham… as much as neither could change the night that led to a man falling into a vat of chemicals and coming on the other side changed forever as a result, changed them _both_ forever, if in different ways.

But it was something that Bruce could never apologize for, because Joker would never listen to it. He had tried, once and swore since then that he had never seen Joker, no matter how much they were at each other's throats, give him such a look of pure _hatred. _Even if Bruce regretted that night, Joker saw it as his _birth. _And no matter what Bruce had ever tried to say to him about it, Joker would never listen.

Certain things they could never change. Actions taken could never be taken back. And some things could never be forgiven. But even _then… _even then there was still that glimmer of hope, of light and Bruce could not ignore that. Joker had reached out his hand to him, showing Bruce that things were not completely lost. And that… even if no one else could forgive him it, Bruce would always take that hand.

Even when they fought so close to the line of life and death, Bruce had always been willing, _waiting,_ for that hand to come to him. No matter how much he had tried to deny that to himself or to others…

They were inevitable, he and Joker.

He looks back at Joker now and sees those piercing greens looking at him again, hungry. He swallows and that tide of emotion, of pure _need_ races through him. No matter how later might go, there was still _this_ and he didn't have to be the World's Greatest Detective to know how much Joker wanted him, just the same. He stands, watching Joker as Joker's eyes moved to follow Bruce's movements, until he is standing in front of him.

Joker looks up at him, cutlery still in his hand, now clutched tightly.

"Put it down." Bruce tells him.

Joker's eyes brighten and he clutches it harder now, deliberately so.

"Or what? What could the big bad _bat_ do to me?" Joker purrs. Bruce nearly grabs him then and there (the _tease!) _He runs a finger across the back of the blade of the knife slowly, looking at Bruce all the while. "Unless it was something I _wanted."_

"Put it _down, _Joker." Bruce demands now, lowering his voice into the range he used as Batman.

Joker shivers visibly at that and this whole thing, this _tease..._it could have been like this all along, couldn't it have? It _had_ been, really. Only that Bruce had ignored the undertones of _sex_ in it before. But Joker kept him from ignoring it _entirely. _And _now? _Now-

He grabs Joker's wrist, tight but not overly so yet; still, Joker's eyes widen, the pupils expanding as he looks at Bruce.

"Bat-" Joker breathes.

Bruce grips his wrist tighter now, pressing hard enough where others would cry out for mercy.

But Joker _moans._

"Bruce,_ please." _Joker begs.

_God._

He leans forward, in Joker's space now, hand still gripping him tightly.

"Not until you do as I _told _you." Bruce tells him.

"No." Joker says breathlessly.

He yanks on Joker's wrist, pulling him up and the cutlery falls with a clatter onto his plate. Joker is flush up against him now and Bruce can't ignore the hunger in those eyes anymore. He pulls Joker's head close, cupping the back of his head and kisses him hard, drinking down Joker's moan, mapping his mouth with his tongue, hissing when Joker bites down on his lip, groaning when he licks away the blood that wells there.

He pushes Joker against the island, eyes raking over his body, still clothed in Bruce's clothes and an idea comes to his mind.

"Stay still." He tells him.

"Why-!" Joker starts, before letting out a surprised noise as Bruce gets down on his knees in front of him.

Bruce pulls on the pants none so gently, giving him access to what he wanted. Joker's cock is already hard-who knew how long he had been like that-and Joker jerks, letting out a hiss when Bruce touches it.

"Bruce." Joker whispers.

He leans forward, looking up at Joker, making his intentions very clear, but stops just before his mouth is on the other man's cock. They stare at each other for a long time, blue eyes meeting green ones and a world of emotions pass between them. The words stick in his throat again; the words he finds he has always felt, even if he didn't want to acknowledge them.

He takes Joker's cock into his mouth. Joker cries out, bare hands grasping Bruce's shoulders. Joker's eyes are wide and overblown now, staring at Bruce in shock and rising lust. It was almost _obscenely _gratifying, seeing how he was affecting Joker.

And with it comes a sliver of surprising possessiveness, making him grip Joker's hip tightly, shivering as Joker moans wantonly again.

Had Joker been in the position with someone else? Joker was no monk. Neither was Bruce; though his mission to his city had always been his priority, it didn't stop him from taking people to bed sometimes. So he knows on an intellectual level that it's stupid to feel anything like _jealousy. _But the more _emotional _part of Bruce _doesn't care. _It simply _wants _and _needs._ And the thing he has always wanted and needed most-to his own detriment even, many times in the past-is here now, in his arms, in his mouth, had taken Bruce deep inside.

He looks up at Joker and the expression in Joker's eyes changes, though he doesn't know what he's thinking. One of Joker's hands moves to touch Bruce's face.

"Look at you." Joker breathes.

Bruce pulls back from Joker's cock slowly, looking at him all the while, savoring the pleasure on his face.

"Isn't that my line?" He asks him.

"I lost track which is supposed to be whose line a long time ago, darling."

"Me too." He admits.

"But that's alright," Joker says softly. "You're here."

And so was Joker. They were here _together. _And really...that was the thing that truly mattered.

And of course Joker had to break the moment, in his fashion.

"And I get to come inside _Batman's mouth,_" Joker says, mouth sharpening into a grin. "So really, win win! Hah-ahh!"

Bruce rubs the finger he had just moved between Joker's legs, not quite moving inside, making Joker groan, trying to push into it.

"Come on." Joker says.

"No."

"Come _on." _Joker says again.

"No."

He pulls back the finger, ignoring Joker's protests and lifts his hand up towards Joker.

"Suck on them."

Joker's eyes widen for a moment, before turning heated.

"Don't have to tell a girl twice." He purrs, before grabbing Bruce's hand, slowly taking each digit in his mouth slowly, licking and sucking on them. The pressure in Bruce's own pants tightens even further, with each wet lick and suck. He takes Joker's cock in his mouth again, holding it at the base with his free hand. Joker's hand tightens painfully around his other hand for a moment, before loosening when Bruce pulls it away.

Saliva was not generally great as lubrication but it would do in a pinch. And anyway-

Joker sighs, his body leaning a bit more into Bruce's now.

-Joker liked the extra edge of pain.

Joker's body is still tight, despite what they had done not so long ago in the car, but not unwieldy. Joker is quick to spread his legs, giving Bruce even better access and it's not long before Joker is moaning loudly, rocking himself on three of Bruce's fingers. Bruce's _own _ache is nearly unbearable now, but he can't stop himself; the need to undo Joker on his hand, to spill into his mouth is too great too ignore.

It doesn't take long; Joker is too overwhelmed and Bruce is thorough. Joker moves fast and hard, letting out keening sounds that Bruce wants to drink down but can't reach, so he moves his mouth down Joker's cock the way he wanted to his mouth.

"Bruce." Joker groans, his hands gripping Bruce's head tightly now, on that paper thin edge of pleasure and pain. "_Bats. Bats!"_

Joker cries out, the only warning Bruce gets, hands tightening painfully on Bruce's hair now, clutching him close as he comes on Bruce's fingers, shuddering as he shoots into Bruce's mouth and Bruce groans against it, swallowing him down with a shudder of his own, the taste both bitter and sweet.

Joker slumps against the island, hands finally loosening a bit from Bruce's hair. He pulls back from Joker's softening cock, licking his lips with the rest of Joker's essence as he removes his fingers. Joker pants, eyes lazily turning to look Bruce in the face once more.

"Well! That was…" Joker trails off, for once seeming like he couldn't find words to speak.

Bruce stands, pulling up Joker's pants. It's silent for a few moments, save for Joker's labored breathing.

"Bruce?" Joker finally asks, quietly. Bruce could only wonder how his own face looked to Joker just then. "Do you-"

He grabs Joker's face, kissing him hard, letting the clown taste himself on Bruce's mouth. Joker gasps into his mouth and pushes himself closer to Bruce immediately, as if the non-distance between them was still somehow too far apart. He pulls back from kissing him and starts to pull him out of the kitchen. Joker laughs, as if in disbelief, letting himself be led without issue.

"Where are we going?" Joker asks, laughter bubbling in his throat. "Because if you say _back to Arkham,_ I'm going to be _sorely _disappointed in you, Bats!"

"Of course it's not 'back to Arkham.'" Bruce says, leading the way down the mostly darkened corridors, hand pulling firmly on Joker's (well, what was once Bruce's) shirt.

"Really?" Joker says, sounding surprised.

Bruce had thought that point had been made clear when he turned away from the Asylum earlier, but perhaps Joker had still been unsure of where he stood with Bruce. Where _they_ stood, together.

"Unless you want to give them a show...but I have no interest in letting anyone see you that way but _me."_

He doesn't let Joker respond, as he pushes him up against a doorway. Joker lets out a delighted laugh, eyes bright as he looks at Bruce, his hands snaking up to wrap around Bruce's neck.

"Always so _possessive, _Brucey! Well," Joker says, his voice lowering. "It's a good thing I _like _that trait on you."

He leans in to kiss Bruce and the kiss, despite the heat between them both, is unhurried, slow, a slow glide of their lips against the other and Bruce groans into it. The _intimacy _of this was killing him. Never had things been this way before for him. Before there had always been _some _kind of distance, however small, with whatever paramour he had at the time, even if they knew his secret as Batman, unable to fully give himself over to them. But with Joker, there was no hesitation. There was just _this._

There was just _the two of them._

Pain and pleasure aside, heartbreak and triumph aside… it felt like it had always been meant to be this way.

From the moment Joker's eyes had been on his in a chemical plant. The moment Bruce had been unable to look away. The moment his outstretched hand hadn't been able to keep him from falling. Falling into what would have killed anyone else. But Joker had come through the threshold. And he had come out the other side...all of this time..._loving _Bruce.

The words were there again, but it still didn't feel the right time to _say_ them.

The _thought _of it though turns his kisses to Joker more insistent, more hurried. His impatience-and desire-is too much for him to ignore any longer and he pulls Joker inside, closing the door firmly behind them, kissing Joker roughly for a moment as he locks it. Joker laughs against his mouth, kissing him back just as eagerly.

"Ooh, Brucey," Joker says, as they finally pull apart from one another, Bruce leading him further inside. "Afraid of getting spied upon in your...den?"

Getting up to his bedroom seemed near impossible now, with his own desire at a fever pitch and Joker's eyes just saying _more. _

This could be said to be a den or living area or whatever other equivalent, what with the plush looking red leather chairs, a small open bar, a case of expensive cigars in a case for guest use (Bruce didn't imbibe alcohol, true, but he also had no interest in smoking of any kind either), bookshelves filled to the brim with various books on various subjects, a pool table that was set up neatly for a game, the pool cues just behind it, ready for use.

It was a room for Bruce to entertain certain guests, (for some, even with the expensive nature of the things in the room, it was still too 'pedestrian') though it had been quite some time since he had to play host in here. Just as well; he had been too distracted by Joker lately-even before tonight's events which had changed things for the two of them-to be focused as Wayne.

Still, as desire filled as he was, he still manages to keep his head enough to stop, with Joker's backside bumping up against the pool table. Joker's hands, long and elegant, are quick to pull Bruce closer to him, arms wrapped almost possessively around Bruce.

"There's so much I wanna do," Joker whispers, leaning in to suck on Bruce's neck, making him groan, his own arms wrapped around the other man in return, holding onto him just as tightly. "So much, so little time."

He leans down, kissing Joker.

"You're acting like this is the only night." He murmurs against his mouth.

Joker stiffens visibly against him, which makes Bruce tighten his hold on him even further.

"You still thought that." Bruce says. It wasn't a question.

"What was I supposed to think?" Joker mutters. "You're always so hot and cold with me."

"That's...fair." Bruce allows. "The same could be said about you, but that is...partly my fault, I know."

"You never know how to bend. Which I _like _in many cases. And in others…" Joker trails off.

"I'm bending now." Bruce tells him. "Well actually…"

"Actually…?" Joker asks, suspicion in his tone.

He loosens his grip around Joker, but immediately turns the man around, pushing him down into the felt of the pool table. Joker lets out a startled moan as Bruce pushes a bit harder. He leans down, mouth to Joker's ear.

"_You're_ the one bending." He says, kissing Joker's ear.

Joker bucks up against him, making him groan.

"I'm gonna _kill_ whoever taught you to talk this way." Joker says, hips continuing to move tantalizing around, enflaming Bruce's desire even further, gasping when Bruce grabs onto his hips, rubbing himself against Joker's ass.

"But you _like _it." He croons against Joker, moving almost languidly against him. He could almost come just like this, the two of them moving together until he spills all over them. But...no. He is greedy when it comes to The Joker. All he can hear is _more, more, more _and it doesn't matter which of them is thinking it or saying it, because it rings true for both of them.

"And anyway...you'd be hurting yourself then." He tells him.

"Me?" Joker says faintly, as if from a great distance.

"Do you think I didn't hear all the things you've said to me-things you wanted to do _to_ me, or wanted me to do to _you_-over these years? I remember what you've said to me. And remembered what I've always wanted to do to you."

Joker moans, rubbing himself against Bruce even harder now.

"Bruce."

"Joker." He says in return, tilting Joker's head to kiss him briefly before moving back, ignoring Joker's protest, starting to pull down Joker's pants once more.

"Right here?" Joker asks, shock and joy in his tone.

"Well I could fuck you in the hallway, but there's time for that later." He spreads Joker's legs, hissing as he opens his own pants, freeing his aching cock. Pre-come is already leaking from the tip and he hasn't even touched it yet. He leans down, rubbing himself against Joker's hole, making them both groan. "Do you need-"

"If you don't fuck me right now, Bruce Wayne," Joker growls. "I'm going to-!"

Bruce slides inside of Joker, the journey made easier from Bruce's earlier ministrations on him, trying to take his time with it but Joker pushes up against him, crying out as it pushes Bruce deeper inside of him. This was a different position than they had been in, in the car and Bruce groans as the heat envelops him. It's a push and pull of burning pleasure, of unbelievable tightness. In any one else, despite the work done to him minutes earlier, it would surely have been too painful, but Joker _gasps _into it, straining his body upwards, flush against Bruce's chest as he bottoms out inside of him.

"_Fuck, _Bruce." Joker moans.

The sight of Joker's body undulating beneath him makes him push even harder, faster, inside of him without thinking and they both cry out. His hands become like vices against Joker's slim hips, his cock pushing into him roughly. At this pace _neither _of them were going to last much longer but he couldn't bring himself to care. His need too great; his need to _please Joker _just as great.

He leans down again to look at Joker closer and is startled to see tears streaming down his face. He grits his teeth as he forces himself to slow down, letting out a startled cry when Joker immediately pushes onto his cock.

"Joker-"

"Don't stop." Joker gasps. "Please."

"But you…"

"_Don't stop." _Joker exclaims, his face wet with tears that were still falling.

He pushes them back into a bruising pace and Joker lets out a cry, not quite a laugh and not quite crying. The sight of Joker's face, staring at him this whole time now, and the feel of his body as he moves inside him would be enough to bring even the _strongest _person down.

And really...that's all it takes.

"I love you." He tells Joker fiercely, kissing him hard as he comes, both of them crying out as Bruce spends inside of him, the burst of white hot pleasure greater than any he had ever yet felt.

He slumps against Joker, exhaustion really hitting him now for the first time tonight. It's silent for a long time, save for their exhausted breaths, which slowly evens out as time goes on. He's startled when Joker grabs one of his hands, clutching it tight against his own.

"I love you too." Joker says, his voice sounding utterly raw. He clutches Bruce's hand tighter, as if afraid Bruce would leave, despite still being inside of him.

Bruce slowly moves out of Joker's body, still holding Joker's hand and pulls him around to face him. Joker's face is a mess of tears, leaving his green eyes rimmed with red and Bruce still finds the sight one of the best he's ever seen.

He kisses Joker again, unable to stop himself. Joker kisses back almost desperately, leaving the two of them like that for a time, staying close to one another.

Eventually he pulls back enough, using his free hand to wipe at Joker's tears. He thought he understood what they meant, the emotion there. It was all so overwhelming…

He points at Joker's piled up pants around his ankles and Joker laughs, both of them using their free hands to pull it up.

"At this rate, I could make a killing selling _Essence of Bat _out of my-"

He kisses him again.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He asks, amused.

"Of _course_ not! Could you imagine?" Joker says, scandalized. "Giving anyone any part of you, darling? Couldn't think of anything _worse! _No, no, you and your _precious _bat fluid remains with me."

"Speaking of," Bruce says. He leads Joker away from the pool table, (he'd have to remind himself to clean up the kitchen and in here later; he _really_ didn't want to imagine what things would be like if Alfred came across it) still firmly holding his hand. "Come on."

"Where to now? I love you, Bats, but even _I _need like a five minute breather after that. Oh fine, you convinced me; rough me up a little and I'm good in a minute or two-"

"We're going to the master bath, in my room, and we're going to get cleaned up."

"And then?" Joker says, a gleam back in his eyes. He looked _happy _and the sight of it makes Bruce want to say those words to him all over again.

"And _then, _if your _poor, bruised body _can handle it, maybe I'll fuck you in the bath. But…" He pauses now, a bit of seriousness dripping into the humor that had been laying there. "What I really want is for us to get cleaned up and I get to hold you in my bed."

Joker's grip tightens.

"That...sounds like fun." Joker says hoarsely.

Bruce smiles.

"Doesn't it, though?"

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


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